


Me in your Sweater(You said it looked better)

by Anne_Noob



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dream Team SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Alternate Universe - Historical, Antartic Empire, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Realistic Minecraft, RedCreepers, RedCreepers as family, SmpEarth is canon, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit are Twins, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, empress!kristan, historical dream smp, no beta we die like l'manburg, sbi as fd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Noob/pseuds/Anne_Noob
Summary: "What made her do it but the mere fact she could?That she would have a chance of finally winning? Oh how selfish she is, how weak are her trembling hands to think a mistake of such magnitude as Manburg could be fixed by one single and flawed being such as herself. It's a problem that requires much more than just a mere moment of hope, it requires planning.And at the down of november 16th, she will take back what is hers.November 16th, she has time to plan, she has time to prepare and to join them.And at the down of november 16th, she will take back what is hers."
Relationships: TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work(and more like a test work,to be honest here) and i'm publishing it here and on my tumblr! i hope you enjoy it :) Also english is not my fisrt language, so sorry in advanced! <3

Within the city there was this stillness, a constant state of just being, as men and women walkes, heads down and hands in front of the body, following from afar the tall figure dressed in green. His hair is pure gold and skin pale, had not been touched by the sun in ages, the pair of leather boots hit the ground with strong straps, his trousers well tailored and his lime coat showing the ruler's power. Thus he's not alone but with his knight, the mare way he walks was enough to warn any.

The visage in front of the walls is grotesque:slim black bodys in piles on top of each other, purple blood soaking into the wood path, the creature’s eys ripped off their skull violently leaving behind the endless void. Slowly the king passes through the gates, kneeling to get a piece of paper on top of the body's pile. 

In it,painted with the endermen’s blood, was a slim female hand. On top with golden lettering and perfect calligraphy is an ironic  _ God save the king _ .Signed was simply “the witch”,even if the art of magic was forbidden in his kingdom.

[...]

Feet in the black stone podium,sole of its boots dragging themselves killing a tiny insect under his weight. A tall man fixes his tie and smooths his tuxedo, goat ears moving at any sound around him,horns twisting pointing forward like a threat. They scream a warning, and his eyes twist one’s soul under its gaze.

It almost hurt how his smile grew bigger as he watched his land be born, first he just had to take out its infestation.Unconsciously he’s feet kill another bug, and he looks to his side harsly to a slim,almos tiny, young men with well combed hair and green tie, a more simple pair of a grey suit on his still childish body. In the goat men’s eyes is a dirty look, one a father would give to his son when they mischief.

But he’s no father and the boy isn’t his son, he’s a tool to achieve a goal. He looks back down to his nation,built with his own citzen’s hands and he is truly proud of them, of himself.It almost made him pity them, those hard working men and women. Gently he hits the microphone in front of himself, the sound echoes through the whole city but most of its habitats are right here, in front of him.

-So,hum, a festival! That’s what I'm here to announce. It’s gonna be a celebration of  _ democracy _ .

Smugly looking at his other side,to a man who shares the same smug almost reckless smile but with no suit,no tie and eye behind sunglasses. A man he almost completely trusted. Maybe it was a foolish hope on his mexican vice president, that he won’t backstab the one in power with the first opportunity. But still, he trusted in him. 

Taking a deep breath, he supports himself on the table and brings his mouth close to the microphone, a big smile on his face and wind in his hair.

-The democracy that let Mangur live to its fullest potential.A celebration of a new era of peace...that has been brought forth by my administration. 

And his smile grew bigger, it was so easy.

-I reckon it's time to  _ celebrate _ .

It was so fucking easy to just take it all.

[...]

Gently twisting in her fingers is a small pearl, carved after a massacre of uncountable beings,their blood still is in her armor and a smeal of death will impregnate the desert for years to come. Its eyes turned grey and green, glowing under the torch's light.

-Do i aim at him,Wil?...-she whispers, looking at the city under her, her back gently against the top of the tower’s walls.-...Or do I aim for the skies?

And like back then, there was no definitive answer. Wind moves her long hair, eyes focused on the tall men leaving the stage. From her she could easily kill him. Leaving the pearl in her pocket, hands going to her back and pulling her bow and arrows from the quiver. One hand in the wood,another in the string. One eye closing, breath steding...Pulling the string in between her fingers is easy enough,She just needs to  _ aim _ . 

Breathing in one more time, aiming the tip of a arrow directly to Jschlatt’s head, right between a curved horn, she lets go of the string.Its minutes of agony, first she feels her cheeks hurting from her smile and then  _ something _ hurts in her chest, as if her heart is being pulled out from her chest. A heavy sense of regret, this isn’t….she must do something to….

Her arrow misses by centimeters, hitting his horn instead. He complains and curses as She hides behind the tower’s protective barrier. Between the cracks she sees His cabinet helping him, but he isn’t injured. quickly she pulls the pearl and throws it roughly and as father as she can,embracing herself for impact.

Is a blurry few moments after it and then she falls, her sides hitting the ground hardly and she whispers in pain, eyes looking up to the green leaves into the moon.The moon is a constant in a world full of variables and twists, the stars will always rise at night, the sun will always be in the sky during the day.

What made her do it but the mere fact she could?That she would have a chance of finally winning? Oh how selfish she is, how weak are her trembling hands to think a mistake of such magnitude as Manburg could be fixed by one single and flawed being such as herself. It's a problem that requires much more than just a mere moment of hope, it requires planning.And at the down of november 16th, she will take back what is  _ hers _ .

November 16th, she has time to plan, she has time to prepare and to join  _ them _ .

And at the down of november 16th, she will take back what is  _ hers _ .


	2. There is a place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, i'm posting here the same thing i'm posting on my [tumblr](https://anne-the-historian-ish.tumblr.com/), and i'm doing my best to learn how to used and edit in Ao3! If anything is wrong,please let me know!  
> Also,thank you for the four kudos! It made me very happy <3

_ 3 years prior,Winter in the planices. _

Within its dark shadows the dark wood forest passes much further then her eyes can see, pale sunshine passing through the leaves and snow, a steam of sweat in her forehead and neck as her legs struggle to pass a thicker piece of snow. Her leather armor does little to protect her feet,chest and head,her back hurts for varying the weight of her life on her shoulders.

She feels like shit, it's long past the time when she knew how to count the  _ days _ . She still was able to count the time, but months? what a concept.

A grip pushes her into the snow, the fragile body being consumed by the cold and the emptiness of the forest. She holds on in one of the trees, her nails already shouren and fingers with small cuts, with the rest of her strength she gets out. Using the tree as it sustain her body,eyes almost shout. Within her inventory she gets a flask, full until the top with an orange liquid. Usually she doesn't like to drink honey,but its sugar is what keeps her going with minimum strength.

She knows it's been years since the attack and she never stopped running away,further and further from her home and its cobblestone walls. In her dreams she could still feel the warmth of the redstone and of grilled chicken,a type of food she doesn't have since then,and the sounds of her brother’s traps for animals and automatic farms. Getting out of the tree,she passes through a frozen river.She remembers the lake they head, a perfect place to be in summer,and the windmill her cousin constructed closer to it when she was eight. They would collect the crops, mostly wet and potatoes and storage there for winters like these.

Redstone stood underground,where she could not reach until “she was older”. She never saw the mines her cousin and brother made together, she always stood in the library trying to decrypt the old manuscripts. Sometimes she still felt the itch of the old paper in her fingers and the smell of the older place, of stories once told and forgotten forever.

Now the ashes must fill the soil once fertile, the flames took down everything they had. She got lost in the mountains north, with some pork chops and bread. She wanted so much to look for them, but the soldiers were all around the place so she just runned as fast as she could, like  _ he _ told her. Passing oceans and villages,great cities and davasted fields. She knew a lot of people,but had no friends.Once she had a dog,she missed him.

Under her the ice cracks, singing for the emptiness,and she was too far away from the next hedge. She wishes she could record it somehow,the singing, it was smoothing. A shaking breath was all she left when the water pulled her down,stronger then the snow and colder then the winter. It should be a fitting way to die,seeing the pale light of a sun too further to reach, like when she got lost in the savanna and sow the high strings calling her weak body with whispers of false promises.

But like then she could not, she was  _ cursed _ . her limbs moved as she emerged, body soaked from head to toes and her shitty helmet is lost, as if it could protect her much. She needs a cave and fire, some habit and to stab something. She needs to scream. Her pace was slow as the chill wind,walking towards a mountain. 

Slowly the forest turns into more green then snow, with some dirty horse paths and chopped logs. In between the trees she could see something in the horizon, a tall wall with stronger cobblestone in a dark tone, almost like obsidian. Why such walls where in a wasteland was something she didn’t knew, but she was sure that it belonged to a king or rich men.It had gold in the top, or at least it glows like it but from this far she could not tell the difference,she would not say for sure if it was one or another. 

Not all that shines like gold in fact  _ is _ . 

She needed warmth and had some emeralds in her pockets that could pay for one night, maybe she could stay for a week and work in something they need. As long as there is payment, she would stay. Griping her armor and keeping a steady pace, she gets past the forest and into the wasteland. No trees,no grass:it felt like a dead land, smelled like her own once walls.

Closer she was sure,it is not obsidian and neither the top is made of gold. She tries to see through the gates or to hear some voice, it was oddly silent just as the dead land around her.

-Hello?- the weak question echoes through the air, her hands in the gates,they are made of some type of wood planks she neve saw before.- Someone? I offer work in exegeng of emeralds.

-You look very bad down there.-A soft voice spoke from above and she looks up, seeing it as a because of the sun behind it.-Open the gates boys! Give this lady a blanket and warm milk.

In front of her the wood is taken down, she slowly backs way and two literal boys apen in front of her. Her eyes were tired but she was sure, they could not be older than seventeen-ish, both with blue uniforms with golden shoulder plates and buttons, the trousers are brown and the boots black. A tritone black hat with white decorated brim in their heads, it all must have been very handsome in the beginning,but it all was in a huf shape now. 

The one with orange hair and freckles looking even younger,maybe fourteen-ish, offers a hand seeing how much she’s shaking, she accepts because there is no option,she does not want to be rude. The other boy,with brown hair and soft eyes gives her his jacket,with most of the buttons now lost and the shoulderpads hiding a hole in the sholderseam, and she weakly smiles at him.

-You’re soaking,miss.-The redheaded looks at his comrade as they approach a structure in the middle of the land,that is as davasted inside the walls as it was on the outside.

-I fell into a river.

-How?

-Well the..- she pauses and coughs.-sorry,the ice…

-Say no more.-The redhead says, gently helping her in a chair.-Tubbo get a blanked and be  _ fast _ , i’ll warm the milk.

The boy puts the jacket better in her weak body, gently taking her brown hair out. In his eyes she looked so much older than himself,but if it was because of real age gap or for how long he supposed she’ve been walking outside in this terirble state he couldn’t tell,she didn’t look like no one he knows. Beneath the leather armor he can see a little of her red blouse bottom-up until her nack,and a little of her black coffs in her wrists. The leather pants looked like the only thing in her legs,he could not tell if she was wearing something under the leather boots. 

-You’ll be alright miss.-He gave her a conforthing grip in her shoulder.

_ -Tubbo _ .- the other boy’s voice was harsh, as if made of the cold wind. In her head she could satar to imagine what this boys passed through to be like this,selfless and still tough.

-Yes Fundy,sorry miss.

-just  _ go _ .-his friend points to the door and the boy,without his own coet, gets out in the cold winter.The redheaded gives her a gless with warm milk and a pice of bread.- This is all i can give to you now,miss. 

She says a weak “thank you” like a whispery singing ice through the forest. The other boy sits in another chair, looking as she eats with sadness in his eyes. Se couldn't care less,but finds it sweet that he cares enough to be sad. Biting the bread and drinking the milk quickly, she knew she would not accept any type of help from strangers,especially when they look so military. They could be working with the king, they could try do the unspokable with he.

As long as her axe was in the inside of her leather pants she would be safe. 

Fundy can feel the cold in his bones and hears the wind outside, his feet bets in the wood floor. He looks how his friend's blue worn out jacket fits so losey in her, passing her hips and falling from her shoulders. Fundy plays with the hedge of his blue blouse, that should be white, and counts the freckles in his hands. He knows how many he has,just needs something to do while the silence fills the room, the cold in the air.

With a loud noise the door opens, both of them looks to the opening. First tubbo pass inside, wrapping her in a tich gray blanket. Behind him two other figures aper, one as young as the two boys e the other around late twenties.

-You don’t look from around this land, who are you?

-Tommy.- The older one speakers, she recognizes his voice as he was the one hidden by the sun,high up in the walls.- Tubbo told us you fell into the river, the ice in there can be very tricky.

-Yes.-She grips the blanket,it feels until the floor and covers her fully.- And answering the young there.-With her head she points to tommy.-I’m not from here and from nowhere alse, i’m a worker that goes where work needs me.

It’s not a lie,she tells herself in her mind. She’s from nowhere, a land long gone before these boys even alisted, judging by what age they must have.

Tommy has blue eyes looking into her, as if creaking her soul open for any secrets and traps. His golden hair falls loosely in his drump forehead,he's the second one with the clothes in worst condition that she can see,at lest in the room. the sleeves of his jacket with no buttons up in his elbows, the boy was working.The shoulder pads are a dirty gold, his trousers stitched in various spots and his boots are just simple leather armor boots.

-What type of work you do?

-Land and mine.-the blond scoffs.

-You? a woman doing all of that? what else,potions?

She smiles but nothing says, not trusting the boy. The gesture made him even more angry, taking a step forward in her direction, dirty boots hard agast creaking wood.The older man put a hand on the boy's shoulder, trying to dissipate the tension.

-Boys could you wait outside,i would like to talk with the lady, if it would be all right with you?- He looks to her,a friendly hand in her direction.She nods once, accepting.

-Taboo is without a jacket,he’ll  _ freeze _ .

-I’m fine.

-No, he’s right.-the older one takes out his own jacket,giving it to the boy.-You three go to mine house,we’ll discuss there.

The blond boy looks to the older man, ready to protest,when the redhead one pushes him out into the wind,the older man’s hand now falling limp at his own side.There is some commotion outside, and she can see it a little before her attention is bring back into the inside. The older man sits where Fury once was, open his inventory and gets more two breads, offering one for her that is openly accepted.

-You are the ruler of this land,sir?

- _ Ruler _ ?-he squints his eyes,confused.-No, i’m a president. My people chose me, my three friends that you sow. I’m Wilbour scoot.- he offered a kind hand, that she shaked back weakely.

-Good to know you Mr.Scoot.

-Whats you name,miss?

-Call me Anne,please.

Mr.Scoot gets up from his chair, pouring more warm milk for her and opening his chest, looking inside it. Anne watches carefully the man, how his black blouse looks in contrast with his brown trousers.Even without gold and in a waste of land,there is something powerful in his presence,the way the boys follow his commands is a notable proof of trust.

There are some scars in his skin, paler because of the cold. There are some in the back of his neck and in his hands,strong fingers move things inside the chest,he gives her the feeling of a swordsman.A puff of brown hair falls in his eyes and he needs to push it aside,eyes still focused in his work when he talks.

-Its a sweet name,what's the origin from it?

-Latin.- She smiles, her brother told her that.-Mr.scott...what place is this?

-the republic of L’menburg.-He smiles back at her, hands in his knees to support.-A great nation, now free.

She smiles and wilbour feels something soft inside of himself,like the sunshine in summer and a smooth wind breeze. Anne’s face is translucent pale with too many purple and blue markings of old wounds,eyes profund and dark as the night sky without stars,he feels like he could just stare at the darkes and be drunk by it without remorse.Lips are blue-ish because of the cold and slightly bloodied, a scar close to her hairline and with pieces of dried blood.

Brown hair is no longer then above the shoulder, dump because of the fall and dirty after so long without proper care. Leather armor falling apart and a weak body, how long has she been  _ running _ ? Even more important,why? Maybe he should not have opened the gates, thinking now. Looking back out, snow starts to fall from the skies again.

Would he be able to sleep knowing he let her die alone in the snow?

Wilbour gets a towel and brings to the woman, their hands brush into one another for brave moments.

-Use this in your hair,or anywhere you need. You can close the curtains and lock the door if you want to change into something warm.sleep there, tomorrow i’ll bring more bread.

-thank you, how could i give back your kindness?

-there is no need to “give back”.-brown brows furrowed,his hand in the door knob.-I wouldn’t be able to sleep well knowing i could have helped,but didn’t.

-thank you.

-Of curse,if you want to stay you would be more than welcome, we could use another pair of hands.

Wilbour removes his hat as a kind gesture, given a “good night” before leaving. She waits until her eyes can’t see him outside anymore, closing the curtains and looking at the door as recommended. Inside now is dark and cold, the towel drying the hair as she takes out her leather armor. At least the pants aren’t soaked, so it's a win. Her leather boots are the only thing in her sore feet,ankles blue because of old injuries and fingernails bloodied.

Dried and warm she finally can analyze the room,where she’ll sleep that night. There are two windows with old curtains that dance softly through the wind that pass through the wood floor, one stone table with a pot without a plant, four chairs and one bed where she’s sitting. there is a mystery in this room, as if it keeps secrets and wars within it but she’s too worried to ask about it.

_ We could use another pair of hands _ ,she looks outside seeing soft snow start to fall in the beer land, they sure could...but can they pay for it?

There is nothing in the chast, so Mr.Soot must have took all of the intins with him,which is clever.There is a iron door in the back that can’t be open, there’s warm milk in her hands and a roof above her head,she’s safe.

As long as her blade is with her.

[...] 

Dark brick walls surround the small cobblestone house, with half stone slabs atop with the roof keeping the snow outside its walls.It’s crowed inside, the younger boys siting around the table while the furnece’s coal crakes,warming their bodys.Some Jackets are carefully folded on top of the furnace,to warm them.There are two shouting voices in the dark brick room, sitting around the conference table old paper above the weaker wood, some weapons in it too.

-She can be a  _ spy _ ! For what we know,that is basic nothing.

-Tommy she would not live if we didn’t helped her.

Tommy rolls his eyes, back to back with the wooden chair with warm sup in his hands,slowly eating it with care to not harm his mouth. At his side,Tubbo looks interested to his friends opinion on the recipe,carefully created by himself,and tommy noods showing that the food is good,seeing a smile in his friends face.

In direct front of him,Wioulbour haven’t yet touched his own sup,maintaining a worried expression in his face. 

-We’d killed before.-Tommy shoulders, as if the topic on the table didn’t matter at all,and tubbo cringes at his side. 

-That would have been  _ different _ .-Wilbours palm turns into a fist,eyes angry.

-How so?

Around the furnace Fundy looks back at his friends, worried as who the conversation is going.

-Well, she’s already in our walls now.-He says, serving himself more sup before setting at wilbour’s side.-What will we do?

-She seems nice.

-Tubbo she said two fucking words.

-To you.-Wilbour points a finger to tommy, in a humorous action.-We have talked,i know her name. _ Anne _ .

-Sure,half of the continent calls themselves  _ Anne _ .

-But she’s the only Anne from L’manburg.- Fundy points out.-If she does not stay here, she’ll say to other people how we were nice with her.

-That's my idea,yes.- wilbour finale drinks some of the sup,a smile on his face.-This tastes amazing tubbo,thank you.-the young boy flushes,nodding with his head.-I think she could stays, would be good to have one more pair of hands in for the help to reconstruct our land.

-A lady?-tommy scofs.

-She survived a fall into a  _ frozen _ river with  _ leather _ armor.-Fundy trows himself up in the table, using his elbows as support,getting closer to tommy.- That’s not easy task.

-She’s a worker without a house, we could provide that for her work.-Tubbo suggests, getting cozier inside tommy’s bigger sweater.

-well thats what she says,and i don’t trust her.

-Tommy, in the end i’m still the president,and if the secretary of state and my son-

-i’m not-fundy tries to complain,but is interrupted.

-Says she should stay,she’ll stay if she likes to.

Tommy's hands turn into a fist under the table, eyes now fixed in the van with the curtains down. There is some dim light inside there, he can see her silhouette if he pays enough station.

-We’re going, good night boys.

- _ tommy _ .

-Put my jacket tubbo,is hella cold outside.

Then he storms out, a cold breeze getting inside the house.

[...]

A snowstorm started after the sun set, creaking bones and dead groans echoing in the outside with the wind,the fire on the lanter in the side-table. Each bed is in one of the gray walls,the bad shits on a blue gray tone because they misunderstood what dye they should’ve used. Clothes are thrown anyway inside a chest,each in the end of each bad, and their boots are close to the door for easy access.

There is no need to furnaces,they eat in communion with Fundy and Willbour, sharing stories of the past and planning the future. The older men said the brothers should have some sort of heat,be a furnace or a fireplace,but they put it aside. In the winter they would do, and the winter was so far of.

Tommy sees his brother with the corner of his eyes,in a fetal position under the blanket, and feels a dark pit of blame in his stomach. Tubbo’s hair falls in his eyes,armor neatly stored in his personal chest with some fantasy books the young one adores. Slowly tommy leves his own bad, caring the blanket with him.

-I’m not cold.

-shut up tubbo and give me space.

Tubbo lets his brother get comfortable,feeling the extra warmth of the blanket and the smooth company of tommy.They stay silent listening to the storm getting worst, each time the wind blows more violently tommy trembles. Tubbo moves to his side,facing his scared brother.

-You really think she’s bad?

-I dunno,but i don’t want you close to her before i figure it out,ok? 

He agrees with his head and tommy’s shoulder relex, one of his hand going under the pillow for extra support while he cares for his brother,making sure he’s well covered under the blanket. Both boys are fast asleep when the storm ends,the undead of the outside world unable to hurt them.

[...]

It feels like the olde tales, like the library with manuscripts, and has the ich of oldsness with its bloodied pages and har leather cover and gold decorational brim , a single strap to close it shout. She feels like a sinner opening it, it feels like a betrayal.

_ This book declares that the nation which shall henceforth be known as L'manberg is separate,emancipated and independent from the nation of DreamSMP. _

_ The union of the master of men. _

_ Together we are one. _

Whos neat handwriting was this?She could not believe it was wilbour’s,but it was the most plausible one.As the leader of this nation, he’s the one writing the official papers.She remembers how the leader of the desert village used to write,in this same kind of round and precise way in years of training. Gently she puts the book back in its place,in its holy glow cast by the morning sun.

Above the makeshift bed, the blacket is neatly folded with the slightly damp towel on top. She’d put the fire out and her armor back on, the curtains are the only thing staying out of place,still covering the room. Her hair is half up, the strings out of her face,the leather armor closing in her shoulder with strings under her soulderplate. Her leather trousers are destroyed, completely melted by the pressure of that deam lake.

If she was being truthful with herself,the trousers should had being reconstructed a long time ago.At least the boots are still usable,one day she’ll go back to the desert village where she bought this set.Her eyes lunge a little around the comfortable and inviting room, already prepared for departure. Is not the first time she has to leave a nice place and loving people, and now after so many times it’s less hard but still very numbing.Her heart and soul aches with the knowledge she might never see this boy again. 

Pushing the button she leaves the place,in the early morning before anyone could see her struggling through the deep snow. The dark walls surround her completely, the only way out is how she got in:breaking the black wood that serves as the gates. With axe in hand,it only takes her some swings to creke the dead material,just enough space for her to pass through. Quickly she covers where she passed through,lçeaving no trace that she ever stayed there.

_ Its better this way _ ,they could not give her any worthy work and it would only make the young boys see to see her go.She decides to go straight in a wooden path, her axe back in the hiding spot but this time under the pants. She’s in blind, maybe its a village,maybe its a city. For sure it will be again another one-time stay,being in this path give her shivers.

[...] 

Rays of the pale sun shine into the sharp green stone, almost weightless but with so much power.The L’manburg boys look at it with a mixture of emotions, the curiosity of how and when she left, the anger of not receiving even a goodbye,the sadness of not receiving a goodbye.

But for the president, it meant something more, a silent question in the air. Was Ann in the run? What would make someone kept running even when they are in a safe place? Did they looked too much,too pushy? There is no way to know,now.

Gently he gets the emeralds from above the table,putting it into his ender chest.


	3. A self is something one must compose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! i forgot i have to uptade this, since my updates here on ao3 are slightly behind then my tumblr updates. Also i'll try post the song here.  
> Theme song:[Ode to L'Manburg - beetlebug](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=fEDGo4DBn68)

You could almost smell it, if paid enough attention while walking in the wooden paths, some serenity could be felt in the early morning,the birds singing in the rainforest not far away. There are big houses,made of all types of wood and with carefully built gardens that were covered with the snow, chamines letting a trail of smoke like her uncontrolled breath.

Anne was walking for a while,trying to find a mountain or farm, even if the letter would be harder to take care of in this weather. She had some itins that would be more than enough to build a small camp. Unnoticed she passes by the houses,avoiding the dark castle in the background where she believes the king of this land must live.Oddly there is a wooden house,in the middle of a large lake,it has various entrances and some animals and dead farms, probably because of the cold water.

Even more out of the ordinary is how close this nation is to L’menberg, maybe they are allies...maybe they are at war. Even being a terrible better,she would put her money on the letter. 

It took some walking but finally she found it,a far enough place to sat camp,behind some shot muntains.The best ones,in her opinion. Getting her axe and pickaxe, she chopped a few trees and started opening the rocks. Using logs for substation,she uses cobblestone in her walls and floor. Two furnaces inside, one for cooking and other to melting her metals.A makeshift bad with some planks and her old thin blanket, a chest at the edge of her “bed.”It was lunchtime when she was done,Not fancy and very cold, but good enough.

After all,it’s still a roof above her head. SHe opens the makeshift door.She still had some emeralds,she headed to the city to buy some food.Now with more citizens walking around,there are some curious looks at her. They were lots of different clothing,made of fashionable cuts and strong fabrics,soft looking sweaters and strong boots.

No surprise they are staring at her as she walks to the marketplace, she looks like  _ shit _ .In the open era of the marketplace, there are lots of small markets with thick roofs that keep the snow out, a fireplace in the middle now took out. From an old lady,Anne buys some berrys,cheese and more bread.

She takes a bit of bread,holding the rest of the groceries in her free arm. A soft smile in her face as she walks away,thanking the gentlewoman for the surprisingly fresh food.

-That 's funny.

Turning in her toes,she almost bumps into a man. To see his face,she needs to chin up a little. He wears a thick white tunic with a small V neck, a black turtleneck under it. A blue stif pants with leather boots.

-Sapnap.-she smiles,shy.-Good to see you.

-You too,far from there…-hey walked side by side,he's carrying something in a box.-what happened?

She scoofs,eating one more bite of her bread.They pass inside the wooden house in the middle of the lake,that has a weird floor pattern and lots aos chests scattered around, and Sapnap points upwards after leaving his cheats with the others. Using the circular staircase in the middle of the house,they reach the top and through a trapdoor they reach the roof,setting above the glass that shields the fish and sea live.She never took him for an ocean lover.

-Dead end,my goal now is to find a nether portal.I'll go back to RedCreeper's land and hopefully i'll find them.

-that is unnecessary danger.- Using his knees to support his tired arms,eyes in a curious frown.

-i don't think so.-she shrugs,looking to the beautiful view of this nation...If she looks at her back,will she sees L’menburg?.-what you do here?

-you know,the usual.-He smiles,confident-Founds a spot?

-there-she points to her small mountain,she wishes she could smile now. Her spot is very beutiful,close to a river and a flower forest.-its free state,right?

-kinda,it would be nice if you could give at least 25% to the king.

-And who is him?

-Wanna know what? I'll present you to him.

-Sapnap...you know I never stay too long in a place,it would not be polite to just leave.

-you can tell that to him,dream won't mind.

She nods in agreement and they get up to leave,behind Sapnap she truly smiles:She  _ can _ see the other nation,from up here.

[...]

Normally the mines are dark,but in the winter they also are cold,umid running down its walls. Not even the undead threat to walk through the shellow walls of the caves,so as long as Anne is silent,she's safe. In her right hand she keeps a torch, in her right hand her second pickaxe of the week. She found diamonds,first day. It's a miner's secret,where to find them. It was rare for someone to have the hardstone without buying it or being a miner themselfs.

Dream smp has a portal,and it's through a safer part of the neater. The legends say herobrine is still there,waiting to consume one's soul at sight. She still needs the king's approval to use it, and he said she’ll get it after the tributes are paid. She sighs silently in her cave,sitting on the dump floor, her forehead dirty and hands bruised,again.

Using her forearms to take out the dump of her hand, she tries to remember any other tricks that could help her in this situation. There had been other rules that wanted her to stay, or because they liked her or because they needed someone with her experience level, but she needed to keep going on.

Each day far from her family is a day closer to losing them forever and,at her current rate,she might not even find any more breathable one of her bloodline.Turning the red dust in her hands,Anne truly wishes she'd paid more attention to her brother's teaching. Silently tear treath to run down her cheeks,but she doesn't’ let’em.

She had indured worst then this stupid feeling of missing, even if its her brother’s briothday she must compose herself. Once she read on a book,  _ A self is something one must compose now _ , the piece burned with everything else but that line stook with her through the whole summer,fall and now winter.

Knowledge is more powerful than diamonds,and redstone can be a mighty weapon in wise hands,if she doesn’t know how to use this..Maybe she could find one that could.

[...]

Trying to sell the powder in the marketplace would be useless, most of it would be taken to the king as tribute and she would have almost nothing of her three stacks of redstone. Being new in the city she still didn’t know the underground markets,but they surely existed. They always do because people always find a way to trick stupid rulers, full of greed and wishes for glory.

Using Sanpa connections she got a way to get out of the city for the morning and, being a good peregrin like she was born for it,she walks through the deserted paths in search of buyers of redstone,iron and logs.

And without much thought and plan,there she is back in front of the tall dark walls and for the first time she feels some tension before cooking in the gates,waiting and hearing the commotion inside. Above her head two shadows apers,making her quickly look up.

-Hey,Anne!

-Mr.Scoot, nice to see you,sir!May I offer some goods with a respectable price?

-No!- The blond boy, by his leader's shadow,answers angrily.-You didn’t even said goodbye!

-Young man,it was for the best, Don’t you see?!I can’t stay much longer in one place.

-Why?!

Silence fills the air,Anne’s eyes look different from up there,Wilbour notices. She’s still using her faded clothing,she must not be far.

-Are you living in Dream’s land,now?-She nods,positive.-Well that's unfortunate.

-Why,Mr.Soot?

-Who do you think we broke through from?-She opens her mouth,but he spakes before her.-Anyhow, thanks for the offering but we can’t bargain like that,now.

-Mr.Scoot!- he turns to her.-Thank you,all of you,for taking care of me yesterday. I’ll never forget.

Wilbur wishes to ask why she left the emeralds,but she left before he could say anything,vanishing inside the deep forest.

[...]

Behind mountains and old pathways,with the silent forest as a ghostly company, a castle with tall towers and colorful windows is part of the Dream smp horizon, its imposing figure feels like a mensager. It tells stories, and she feels as its secrets pass through the chill boning wind,Sapnap’s cryptic smile still haunting her when she asks who lives there.

Isn’t the king,Sapnap says. Actually the king lives at the central building, in the lake.

Making a path in the snow and dirty, Her cape is the only thing hiding her anxious face and keeping the rough of the winter out of her feverish skin. On the bag is the best redstone dust and irons bars she could get, here being the only place she never tried to sell things.

Knocking at the dark wooden door, she patiently waits for an answer hearing soft footstapes inside, probably being moffed by carpets. The knob turns, a tall man on the other side, a golden crown above his brown hair, eyes hidden behind his classic black-glases and a large red cape in his back,softly passing above the clean floor and keeping the men in a purple royal suit warm, a soft smile in his face.

-Oh my God i can’t believe it!

Wrapping his arms around the smaller lady, King Eret’s soft breaths make her smile. She returns the gesture, before both of them entering the castle, crossing the red-carpet corredor, a gentle hand behind her back. Her eyes glow under the shining glowstone and gold,castle staff stopping in their tracks to bow for the king and she feels oddly out of place.

-How?

Would be much rude of her to make the same question? He was almost as good as dead when she found him in that terrible village, they got lost before here with Sapnap...or After? she’s not sure,those moments in the chaotic land are foggy in her memory. She’ll leave her questions for later, for now she’s just happy he’s alive.

-Well, got to a dead end.- Her mouth gasps as she passes the throne room, a proud Eret by her side as he takes her to the back of the castle, into the lonely dining room. -Need somewhere to stay...You can do the math,british-men.

Eret’s deep laughter echoes through the castle as he pulls a chair for her to sit,in the honor place by his side. He makes a move with his hands, ordering something from his staff.

-Yes I think i can!- He extends his hands to her, gently holding his friend.- i’m very happy to see you again.

-Good, i’m here to seal shit.-he laughs again as food is put on the table and her face warms up.- I’m fine,truly.

-Oh i know...But Kingship is lonely,Dear Ann, and I miss someone intelligent enough to talk with.

-You have a full staff, this looks like a small city.

underneath her tone is the audacity few see being displayed in front of the king, the peer shock of the situation sinking in, blood freezing in her veins...Eret is king.

-And they are the nicest people i’ve met, with so much to talk with!- He smiles brightly, resting his back in the chair.-But no one of them knows what we  _ know _ .

Her mouth does a “o” motion, finally grasping what her friend meant.

-And above all, I just want to spoil my friend.

Eret buys everything she has, by dubble of the price. 

[...]

That became her routine,sealing goods at roads during light-hours,and mines during the night. She would stay days without sleep, her eyes getting deeper inside her skul,her skin more transulid as it already was. Anyone that saw her during the night would think she was out of a nightmare, her clothes now changed because of necessity. No more leather armor,as it now stays in the bottom of a chest,almost forgotten.

She bought a new black cape,long past the calf with a hood that shields her face from the light even more. Under it all its her old red tunic,black buttons up until the middle of her neck and a raglan sleeve with simple and sharp cuts. Her pants are now baggy and dark brown,as it was the sheepish after the black one she wanted,but was already sold.

dragging through the snow, she feels as if seeing her life again. Under terrible conditions she’s back at L’menburg but this time she just find’s a rock to stay and relax.

Just to close her eyes for two minutes.

Three…

Or maybe a little longer.

[...]

There was a point to be made that Wilbour is too caring to be a ruler, one that needs to be ready to send his men to demise,or worse. This fact lunges in the air every time they need to decide something as complicated as the war strategies or how to rebuild their broken nation. Most of the time he’ll take the weight of the hardships on himself,so his men will stay well.

Like this evening, he’s taking a long guard above the walls. From up here,he can see the dream smp in the distance,with its glowing lights and thousands of people. The city itself seems to live, in a magical way.

Funny enough,Dream’s rule imposes hard penalties to magic...and that's when L’menburg was born.

Turning west the president hears something coming, an angry and hungry wolf pack leaves the dark forest.They spotted something,and that's unusual because L’menburg walls are always clean because of that very reason. Supporting himself above the walls, he looks down to see a hooded figure.Without a second thought he gets down,there is just one person that would willingly lay close to their walls like this.

And in the opposite of what Tommy thinks, they had been getting some things from her,mostly food that she reseals. It's a little overpriced,but not enough to be abusive.

The president picks up the young lady, her hood falls off her face and she truly smells like death. Inside the L’menburg walls,he closes the gates leaving an angry pack outside while quickly getting to the van.

-Help!

-What in-

-Her again?

-Fuck,how it comes she looks worst?

-Look your mouth,fundy!-He puts her in the bad.-What should we-

Tommy throws a little amount of cold waters in her face,making she get up instantaneous. Tubbo,fundy and tommy hilf see it, the haunted look in her eyes, the dry paths of tears in her face. It takes her a little to recognize where she is but,slowly her body reflexes.

-You look dead.

-Tommy!

-He’s right,Mr...scoot.-She lays down again,body weak.-I’m sorry I always appear like this at your walls.

-Hopefully one day you could tell us why,miss?

-If i wake up tomorrow…

Four boys share a look as the lady falls back asleep,her sentence was never finished but her breath is still strong,chest rising and falling in a ritmic and calming motion.

[...]

Rays of the orange-pale sun invades the van,through the cracks of the curtains direct into her face. Sleepy she turns to her side,still in the world of the dreams and totally unaware of the gentle touch of the Land’s leader,taking her cape out of her body,covering her with a thick blanket. Liting up the furnace,Wilbur puts the cape to dry,feeling how stif the fabric is against his palm.

-Wilbur?- he tilts his head to fundy, the boy’s body fully covered in strong winter wear.-Are you coming?

-Sure thing son, just making sure she doesnt die from the cold.

-I mean...i guess?Why do you care? Like really,  _ cut that crap _ .

The lider sighs, gently getting up from the furnace and putting his hand at ehr shoulder. She almost feels alive under the sun rays, giving her sickening skin some color.

-Once we were like her, without a land to call home...i can empathize with her pain.

The red head nods agreeing, his cheeks getting red as his father happily smiles at him. They both leave the van,without knowing that the woman heard everything. When they left, she popped up in bed,looking at the door with her heart skinning inside her soul. Anne lays down, looking at the rays of sun until she sleeps.

[...]

There is a rumor in the big city, of the newcomer without morals that walks morning till down to sell something in the roads, what exactly the people don't know. Why put herself in danger when it is so much easier to sell at the marketplace? She must be owing the king unbelievable amounts of gold,the people say. She must be selling illegal goods,the people say. She must be conspiring against our majesty,the people say.

Sapnap doesn't like the rumors, every rumor has a piece of truth in it. He always loses her in the deep forest, the breaking of bones and tiny steps of the spiders making him company. At night time, she stays at the mines, she gets a lot of items, he supposed.

Maybe she’ll pay Dream in time, maybe she’ll stay at Dream SMP, maybe she’ll backstab him. He nods to himself, Anne is not like that. Is more plausible that she’ll leave this land as soon as she uses the portal than a betrayal.

Once he heard rumors about her magic, how it was the sole reason she survived everything down upon her. That is a rumor he knows to be true, her strong fingers scavenging for spider’s eyes and gunpowder,to create a potion she never used, the sound of boiling water and quiet prays. How she swimmed at a lava pool after drinking a weird liquid,its disgusting taste still in his throat as they got deeper at the lava, the liquid feeling like warmer water.

They never knew if the men got out of that cave, they never looked back to it. That land was very far from the Dream SMP, a chaotic place without law or life, beare of anything at all. It was fitting they met there,he liked her. Soon he heard about her search for someone, he never discovered  _ who _ . Her path was the opposite of his,they shared a goodbye and she gave him the harm potion to “use wisely”.

And he throws it at a child in the L’menburg war,he still doesn't know how they won,and what rumors came from it...some of them surely are true.

[...]

Smoke lounges in the cold air, leaving a path above their heads. Around the campfire are some logs being used as sits by them, dirty boots above the pale floor. Without the uniform they almost look like normal boys, having fun melting marshmallows,supposedly the name of the white candy, and eating hot soup. Sitting at the side of Tubbo, her finger itches around the wooden bow as she takes another sip, eating the pieces of rabbit with strong seasoning. Its smeal alone made her hungry, after sleeping for so long.

Behind the fire, the leader's figure glows with the flames, massy hair falling in his forehead. His sweater looks soft, his boots are the dirtiest. Slowly he tests the acords of his instrument, eyes sharp as he adjusts a note to high for his liking, totally absent of Anne's gaze on him.

In that moment he didn't look like a president or a ruler, he looked like a cute bard about to sing about love and tragedy. Something on him gives that away, even if the scars would day otherwise. Maybe she wants to believe that he's just as a normal worker as herself, a wish fulfilment thought.

_ It all started like any other, _

_ All the salmon has swum to the sea _

_ When my lover she darted her way down the stream, _

_ With a heart that she taken from me.. _

Her gaze turns back at the sup, uneasiness running through her body, brows slightly knit together. It feels personal, that pain in his voice can't be mimicked. 

Useless he truly is a bard, as if so a good one at it.

By her side tubbo signs happily, taking another bite of the candy that (mancha) is face, a soft smile gets in her face as she looks at him,warmth in her heart. Her gaze instinctively goes a little further, at the boy at tubbo's other side with a axe stik at the log, close to him.

Tommy annoys and troubles her, with his quick gazes and tense shoulders. He's the only other person taking the sup, analyzing her when he thinks she isn't paying attention. She catches him all the time.

_ And my chest though it ached there was hope! _

_ A little beacon of light _

_ All my sunniest days are now stolen away, _

_ I still had our son by our side _

_ Fundy _ . Her mouth opens a little, he is Wilbur' actual son, isn't just a cute nick name as she originally presumed. Still a soft smile growls at her face by the way father looks at his son, pure adoration and love glowing in his eyes. The song really is personal, a weird feeling grows in her chest.

She misses her family, her brother loved guitar songs.

_ -I suppose Wilbur created this song? _ \- she whispers at tubbo, head bowed a little to her side to hear him better.

_ -Yes miss, An ode to L’menburg was his way to say thank you to us. _

_ And as he looked up at me with those wondering eyes, I just knew I had to protect him with my life. _

Wilbur looked not only at his son,but at the other two boys too, face glowing with pride and a soft smile. He didn't need to look at the guitar, probably because he played it before, trying the song.

_ -That's... sweet,he looks like a nice leder. _

_ -Better then Dream,but that ain’t hard. _

Truth be told, Dream isn't the most fair leader but she’s still to see tyranny coming from him, but then again she won’t take on defending the men in green garments. He hasn't yet proved to be trustworthy,so she stays silently.

_ To make a land that is good, and a land that is free.  _

_ For the better of you and of me! _

Two pairs of brown eyes connect, his gaze somewhat hopeful and that soft smile. Her breath catches and cheeks turn pink, Anne says to herself is because of the cold wind. It felt like an invitation, whispered through walls and lears of snow, softly spoken without fear. 

Something she never felt before, blossoming out in her chest. 

_ So i summoned my men to my side, _

_ And we sung a familiar tune~ _

_ As a final goodbye, and our fists in the sky. To our past as we started a new! _

  
  


The four boys take a deep breath and sing along, voices making a weird mixture that is surprisingly ok. She feels out of place, as hearing someone's else whispers through a closed door. It's only alone, and she can't help but wonder what other things she should be doing.

Each day passed is a day further from her family. Looking at the boys doesn't make it easier.

_ We built these walls with our own fair hands, through the wind and the rain and the snow _

_ And we swore that we'd keep an unwavering faith, to the land that we carved for a home _

She wants to ask so much, a familiar sensation of wonder in her mind like when she runned in the plains of her home, hair in the wind as she got closer to the shipwreck. It had older paper and strings, she felt like it was the most amazing adventure.

_ "For the dawn of our day!" said our country in flames, This is sun rose bloody and true _

_ Arrows swobbed through the skys, as we swallowed our pride and we ran with our backs to the moon _

_ To our demise.. _

_ from a friend full of lies.. _

Lifting her lungs was a breaking breath,eyes in shock as she watched the rest of the base,an aching sensation at her chest. So it was like that how it happened, a betrayal is a dirty move. She thought that king Dream was better than that, but she isn't surprised that he used that tactic.

In the boys faces it's a hurt expression, it doesn't feel like a commemoration.It feels like a  _ memorial _ .

_ Oh the break of the day shedded its light.  _

_ To our hearts being battered and bruised, _

_ Oh the hopes that we made on the home that we made. _

_ Torn to pieces and left to the blues _

The melody tuns slow and Wilbur's hands troubling above the strings, eyes focusing in all of them. His gaze ponders a little more on Anne, her eyes understating and again soft, like the first time he show her.His chest aches, did she also runs from a tyrant king? Maybe he should had sung the national anthem.

_ But my friend with and angry cry, held the weights of our world to the side.  _

Wilbur looks at Tommy and she gets a hot clue of who the angry-cry friend is, her heart totally shattered. Tommy is just a kid, a chaotic and mean-looking kid but still just that. She wishes to be angry at Wilbur to call the boy upon to serve, by then again she doesn't know if the boy was called or came with his own will.

_ Took a trembling stand with an arrow in hand, as he muttered a final goodbye… _

There is loud claps and the fire is taken down, is time to go.Through the midnight forest she walks back home, knowing her night at the mines will be full of thoughts about a war fought and won by children


End file.
